Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: new (Page 46 of 46)

Boxers, in brief.

Some of them are just typos, no doubt someone creating a Craigslist ad on their small-button smart-phone. Others… I’m not sure exactly what to think.

I like to look over the listings just in case there is someone offering something of tremendous value for very little money. It hasn’t happened yet, but I have found a couple of items that I wound up owning.

Not going for Chester Drawers though. I should have clicked on the link to read the description, but it was more fun to simply wonder if some fellow named Chester was selling off his underwear or – instead – it was a couple of drawers full of chesters. You can never keep enough chesters around the house.

There is a slim possibility that the seller meant to offer a “chest of drawers,” which Chester might have kept his underwear in.

Sunday evening’s listings featured another classic, but when I went back to review it this morning it had disappeared. Hopefully a quick sale ended the need for the ad. I’m fairly certain there are no Craigslist editors out there.

A (deadly) Game of Thrones

The series has been out for quite some time, but I’m a Johnny-come-lately to A Song of Fire and Ice, the epic fantasy series by George R. R. Martin. I’ve previously made mention here of Mr. Martin’s work, but at the risk of beating too long at the drum, I feel compelled to point out what an excellent series he has created.

I’ve also mentioned before that I avoid fantasy and science fiction most of the time, mainly. Here are examples why, from A Clash of Kings, book two in the series:

Hrakkar: from context, some kind of fur-bearing animal.
Xaro Xhoan Daxos: a merchant prince from
Qarth: home of Xaro Xhoan Daxos.
Shierak qiya: the Dothraki (a nomadic desert people) name for the passing comet.

Those names and words that have apostrophes and dashes are abundant as well. Given that most of the characters in the series are presumed to be illiterate (more than one mention is made of an inability to read) as it would have been in medieval times, the odd spellings are only exotic to the reader. Folks in the kingdom of Westeros would not have bothered with spellings, and as with spellings of that era, they would have been based on their oral rendition. Qarth would have been written as Cart or Carth (depending on Mr. Martin’s intention). Mr. Daxos might have written his given name as Zaro or Zarro. Maybe Exaro if the first letter shuns the Zee sound.

My point is, a glossary and pronunciation guide might help, but then the reading of the series might take on the aspect of work.

Still, even with the regular head-knocking spelling irregularities, like Ser – for Sir – the story is as intricate as a tapestry and just as tightly woven. One of the still-shocking realizations for me is Mr. Martin’s ability to write off his protagonists. Many authors admit to growing attached to their familiar characters and fall into the “happily ever after” trap.

Don’t assume that any character – major or minor – introduced at any stage, is going to make it to the finish line. Mr. Martin has the ability to cleave a player from the story without hesitation or forewarning much in the manner his antagonists use their broadswords.

A particular scene in book three is breathtaking in the swiftness in which the story changes course, when a particularly sympathetic family endures yet another tragedy. The passage is as unexpected to readers as the plot twist is to the book’s characters.

Not having seen the continuing episodes of the HBO series based on the books, I can’t say whether the producers of the television version have been less brutal to the cast of characters.

Where many authors and filmmakers go so far as to engage test audiences to determine the most widely-accepted outcomes and endings, George R. R. Martin possesses the confidence to jump into the dark water and ask us to come swimming with him amongst the beasts of the deep.

Who knows what may happen should we take a leap?

The Bistro and Murphy’s Law

My father-in-law had sayings for most every event or happenstance. Lay there and die, he’d say, after dropping something on the floor. To my knowledge, he never dropped anything living.

It never rains but it pours, he professed. That was a slight variation on “It’s either feast or famine,” another of his favorites.

Maybe the reason he said those last two so often was because – well, they’re true for one thing. And those things occur often enough that we are constantly reminded of the truism. And Ed saw to it that we were reminded. Murphy’s Law, he’d point out.

In restaurant parlance – I had it handed to me on Wednesday. That’s a cleaned up version of the actual food service saying. At lunchtime midweek the tables filled up and – as those of you who know me realize – I am at once the waiter, the cook, the busboy, and the dishwasher. Tea-refiller, too. Bookselling checkout clerk, as well.

Could have used a second pair of hands on Wednesday. Or maybe a clone. Two clones would have been better, although the second clone would have tired of the dishwashing duties I would have assigned him.

It was fun. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing, in its proper time and place. I hope my guests realized my hopes included great customer service for all, and toward that end I was moving about as fast as a man of my age and occupation will normally manage.

Wednesday amounted to a schooling of sorts, pointing out that some system had to be in place, whether circumstances demanded it daily or not. In every restaurant in which I’ve had the pleasure of participation, there was some sort of system – good or otherwise. Usually, even a bad system could be tweaked into something more efficient.

The Bistro part of the bookstore had no system previous to Thursday. There was a generalized plan supplemented by some ideas, a few of which turned out to be good ideas. Others – nyaaah. Out with those. The system that went in to effect on Thursday will be tweaked, I’m certain, but there was a much more streamlined delivery of plates of food at lunchtime and a loss less fumbling around.

Nothing like a good downpour to make one look for the umbrella. And that was Wednesday.

Today, a mere two days later, the pace was a complete reversal. Today was closer to what I had anticipated in setting up the food service: a chance to serve lunch to booklovers and strangers-soon-to-be-acquaintances. Not that I don’t want a full house of hungry guests. I’m ready now (he says with hesitant confidence…) and happy to wait on one and all. Enough full houses and I can hire a helper. Work smart, not hard, they say. Of course that means hire someone to do the actual labor. That day will come.

Friday, as Ed would have suggested, was the thinner part of feast or famine, since it never rains but it pours. Hey! The umbrella is ready and I’m anticipating another shower of lunchtime guests and the opportunity to serve up some fresh and tasty fare.

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